The Truth Hurts
by Karce
Summary: Abuse can happen to anyone, no matter how strong they appear. Young Wally West has been suffering alone as his father reigns down on him and his mother keeps silent, until one day he makes the brash decision to visit Robin at his home. Problem is, Dick and Alfred are away and the only other person around isn't exactly the friendly type. Warning: Descriptions of child abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: This story contains descriptions of child abuse (poor Wally), if you are uncomfortable with this subject matter I don't recommend this fic. **

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Bruce's ears keened on the sudden intrusion of noise that was disturbing his otherwise silent home. Looking up from his newly opened book, he gave the door a glare that would have sent a living person to immediately retreat in fright. Normally, Bruce would have gotten Alfred to answer the unwanted annoyance but since he just left a few minutes before to drop off Dick at his mathlete meeting and was going to pick up some groceries afterward, he thought it would be a bit inconvenient for his loyal butler to return home for the sole purpose of answering the door. Bruce was otherwise looking forward to a very rare moment of peace inside his home, one that was free of Batman and Bruce duties alike, but it seems the fates would forever deny him of that simple pleasantry. With an elongated sigh, he picked himself up from his comfortable chair in the den and made his way to the source of the obnoxious rapping.

Forwarding his brow in annoyance, he mentally prepared for the multiple possibilities of who could be disturbing him. The press had been there a week before to conduct an interview for his upcoming fundraiser, so it was a possibility they could be returning to do a follow up article. If that was the case however, he was planning to give a much needed lecture to the writer on the importance of appointments. Another option was a pesky salesman, figuring someone who lived in this wealthy home could use a few useless appliances to add to the collection. Or, it could be a villain hoping to kidnap the billionaire for ransom. He desperately hoped it was the later.

As the door creaked open, Bruce's lips immediately tightened into a sharp line. Out of all the possibilities, it had to be him.

"Go home, Wallace." Wally slinked back when hearing the older hero and stiffened at his hardened voice. He was hoping it would have been Alfred who would open the door, for he would surely invite him in, not the scary bat.

"Uhh…is Dick here, sir?" Refusing to look the man in the eye, Wally cast down his gaze as if to examine his worn out sneakers. Feeling the hard eyes of the man infront of him, it took Wally all his strength to stay at his small spot in front of the door, refusing to budge. All he knew was he had to see Dick, he had to see his best friend as soon as possible. And…he couldn't exactly go home.

Rudy, Wally's father, had been in one of his fits again. He got into a fight with another employee, and ended up getting sent home for the rest of the day with no pay. This coupled with the fact that Wally got in trouble in school for goofing off, again, could only result in disaster. Mary looked calmly at her husband, explaining how the school wanted to have a parent teacher conference to determine the purpose of Wally's lack of focus, which only erupted more rage to build inside the angry man.

"That brat!" Rudy sneered in between his teeth. Jerking himself away from his submissive wife, he bolted to the living room in search of his son.

"Wallace! Get your ass over hear this goddam minute! Oh, boy, when I get through with you I swear to god you wont be able to sit down for a fucking week!" Taking off his belt and doubling it over, Rudy stormed room after room in search for the outlet to release his frustration. Mary stayed back in silence while watching her husband looking for their son, split on what to do. It had been true, Wally did disrupt class yet again, and they had to go to that meeting with his teacher that was indeed inconvenient, but she didn't want Rudy to hurt Wally…too much at least. They've implemented corporal punishment like this for a few years now, and it has helped her rambunctious son from causing too much trouble, but recently Rudy had become more and more quick to use his belt, which frightened her.

"Rudy, perhaps you should calm down first?" It was presented more of a statement then an honest suggestion, causing no change in Rudy's demeanor.

"He deserves everything I give to him Mary, you know that." Rudy gruffed while heading up the stairs to his sons room. Upon opening the door, he saw his pre-teen slouched on the bed with headphones in his ears and a comic book in hand. The scene made Rudy even angrier, how dare his son not know how much trouble he's in! He should be scared of him, begging for Rudy's forgiveness, not reading a freaking comic book without a care in the world.

Thrusting his free hand in front of him to tear away the thin book, he again screamed at Wally who had just at that moment looked up and found his frightening father glaring down at him. Completely startled, Wally fumbled back on his bed, getting as far away from his father as possible, which unfortunately only drove the rage further in Rudy.

"Your mother told me about your disobedience at school! When I'm through with you, I'm sure you'll be on your best behavior!" Without waiting for a reaction from Wally, Rudy lifted his belt high above his head and with full force brought it down with a crack on Wally's legs.

It wasn't the pain that caused Wally to yell out at first, it was the stinging look in his fathers' eyes as he started beating him again. Swing after swing, Rudy brought down the belt on Wally's still body. From years of experience Wally discovered that the beating would always be less hurtful and quicker if he took it, he just had to be strong. Eventually Rudy grew tired of beating his son over his clothes, he wanted to see skin. He wanted to see the effects of his strong arm firsthand, and he'd doubt his newly superhero son was feeling this anyway. In a swift motion, Rudy ripped Wally's pants down and his shirt up while pressing his body on Wally's back keeping his son immobile.

"You good for nothing brat! This will teach you!" Rudy screamed while a sudden outburst of newly regenerated energy rushed through his hand while continually beating down on Wally's body. Wally continued to shut his eyes with full force, moving his hands over his head clawing through his hair as each piercing whip of the belt tarnished a new area of reddening skin. Meanwhile, Rudy was enjoying his new sight of control, eager to punish this boy so he wouldn't even think about being a nuisance ever again.

Wally's mind was blank as his mouth continuously apologized to his assailant. Each gasp for breath repeated that he was sorry and he'd swear that he'd be a better student, and son. His plea however reached deaf ears and Rudy moved to Wally's back.

Somehow during the whipping, the belt buckle that was originally wrapped in Rudy's fist had come free and was now the weight that forced the attack harder on Wally. A scream ran through his lips as he felt the buckle hammering into his side and spine, twisting and maneuvering to get out of the way to no avail. With a free fist Rudy grabbed Wally by his arm and pulled his upper body upward, and brought down the belt and buckle immediately across his face for his defiance.

The rest of the beating lasted a few minutes, until Rudy was both emotionally and physically too tired to continue. Looking up and down his tattered son he gave out an evil grin at his work well done. He rose from the bed and headed out of Wally's room without a word.

A few hours passed without Wally moving, not wanting to leave the confines of his bed that was now giving him some comfort. His pain sensors were overloaded, making him unsure of where he was hurt the most. His back and legs stung and ached but his face actually felt numb. While trying to figure out which was worse, hurting a lot or not hurting at all, Wally tried to empty his mind and calm himself. Tears slipped past his red eyes, cooling his face a little with each trickle. A few minutes passed before he was full out crying, choking on his own tears and feeling the most alone then he ever had before. Wally wanted to see his Uncle Barry, but he also didn't want to disrupt Flash duties. Also…in a strange way Wally didn't want to tell anyone what his dad had done to him. He knew he wasn't the best kid in the world and his father was under a lot of stress from work and…now that Wally was a superhero it caused a whole new reason for frustration in his family. Cringing a little while venturing to sit up, he felt his back give a frightening creak causing a shot of pain to rush through his body.

Alone. He was hurt and alone, with no one to offer him some comfort. Wally knew that if his mother was truly worried about him, she would have made an appearance in his room some time ago. Shaking free some more tears as he lightly touched his face, Wally felt like he was in a continuous dark pit with no route to get out. Then, the image of the Boy Wonder flashed through his mind, causing a very small smile to peak through his reddened face. While Wally had only been Kid Flash for 6 months, he met Robin three months into his training. Batman and Flash had to team up to uncover a cross country drug operation that was dominating both their cities, and both protégés were able to tag along if they stayed a safe distance away and could radio for help if they were in any danger. This was proved to be a grave mistake for Batman, because now his protégé had constantly asked when KF could come over. Batman had outright refused, on more than one occasion, because he didn't want secret identities to be revealed. However three weeks later during another mission Kid Flash had proven his place in the hero community when he saved Robin's life, which ultimately lead to Robin disregarding Batman's orders and reveal his identity to the young speedster. Since then Kid Flash had visited the manor on more than one occasion, but he always took the zeta-tube. Well, except that one time.

Looking down at his curled up hands, Wally knew exactly where to go. That one time Flash took him to Bruce Wayne's front door (for a civilian party, Wayne Enterprise had donated a large sum to multiple police departments in the country, including the research lab connected to Barry Allen who was allowed to bring his nephew) Wally made sure he memorized each direction, secretly writing down notes to help him remember in case Robin needed an emergency secret sidekick sleepover. While gently picking up his feet and cautiously looking down the stairway to see if any parental figure was in sight, Wally held in a breath and made a dash to freedom.

It only took a few seconds for Wally to find Mr. Wayne's home, but now he wish he had more time to figure out what exactly to say. He didn't want to tell anyone what was going on, plus how would his new superhero reputation last if anyone found out that he was afraid of his _father_?

As Wally continued to stare downwards, Bruce soon became suspicious on what was going through the young speedsters mind. While it was true that Bruce hadn't known Wally for very long, his personality was pretty open and you could tell within a few minutes exactly what he was feeling. Instead of his normal chipper voice and overhyper eagerness that was quickly rubbing off on Dick, Bruce was greeted with a shaky, small boy asking for his friend that wasn't home.

"Dick left about a half hour ago to prepare for a tournament with his club, he shouldn't be home for the next few hours," Bruce settled on while carefully watching the boys reaction. Wally shot up to stare at the man, for the first time meeting his eyes, and quickly looked down again to nod.

"Sorry to disturb you then, sir," he said in a low voice. Uncertain of where to go now, Wally shifted to turn around but stopped when a firm hand rested on his shoulder causing a stiff shiver to quake in his spine.

"Would you like to come in, Wally?" Bruce said a tone that was normally reserved for Dick, but laced with some hint of concern. His heart beat pumped through his chest when he noticed the startling bruise that was plastered on the 12 year olds face, and it took much self control to repress the scowl of anger that was begging to be released. The Batman inside of him wanted to find out what exactly happened to the boy, while the father wanted to batarang the hell out of whatever, whoever, had done the damage.

Wally looked back to stare at the normally reclusive, terrifying, man before him before giving a short nod. He wasn't sure he was completely comfortable being alone with the bat, but at least that meant he didn't have to go home to probably face another beating for sneaking out of the house.

A gentle hand guided Wally through the door and towards the kitchen, where a dozen of Alfred's freshest blueberry muffins laid to rest. Bruce shifted uncomfortably during the walk, trying to figure out exactly how to address what was on his mind. He didn't want to cause Wally to bolt away from here though, so Bruce figured he'd have to attempt to make him comfortable first before his questioning.

Wally's eyes focused on the plate in the middle of the island, willing with all his might to attempt to do the polite thing and resist the maddening urge. A sigh belonging to Bruce Wayne filled the quiet air before pushing the plate over to the hungry boy.

"Help yourself," was all that was needed to be said before Wally ripped through the pastry.

Busying himself, Bruce strolled over and started making a pot of coffee filing it up with some of the best beans. It's not like he needed coffee at the moment, but it would give him something to do. Glancing over at the boy who somehow already consumed three of the muffins, he cleared his throat a little in attempts to gather Wally's attention.

"Would you like some coffee?" Bruce asked without really thinking. The boy gave him a wide eyed stare and slowly shook his head.

"I'm twelve, I don't drink coffee," Wally said dumbly while eyeing the intimidating man who returned with a shrug.

"Orange juice then?" Bruce attempted again, silently scolding himself for the avoidable mistake he just made if Wally had in fact accepted the drink. The last thing he needed was a speedster energized on caffeine.

Wally returned with a nod, before quickly adding a, "Yes, thank you sir." Before returning to his muffin.

Placing the drink down, Bruce took a chair opposite of Wally, silently studying him.

"Care to sit down?" Bruce asked while gesturing over towards the chair in front of him. Wally stared down at the chair and quickly shook his head in response.

"I'm fine standing, thank you though." Wally noticed from before that running had greatly upset his back and legs, causing them to be more sore then before. It might be a bit awkward to refuse the seat, but he doubt he'd be able to sit down comfortably anyway. He could probably lay down fine, but asking to lay on the couch would be even more awkward.

After finishing his fifth muffin, he noticed that his host was staring at him, and quite intensely. Usually Bruce was good at hiding his emotions, but at the moment the concern was obvious. It hit Wally like a wave, how could he be so stupid! The man in front of him was the Worlds Greatest Detective for crying out loud, of course he'd find out!

Panic spurred through Wally's body as he began to fidget and try to act normally for the first time since he's been over.

"Want to know what I learned at school? Well, did you know that bats aren't actually blind but," a sudden movement of Bruce's hand in attempts to signal "stop" flashed before Wally's eyes and before he had time to stop himself, Wally flinched and shielded his face with his hand. Tears were now seeping through his hand that was pressed on covering up the evidence of his hurt expression and his body was uncontrollably shaking.

Bruce stiffened, unsure of how to exactly proceed in this situation. If it was Dick crying at the table, he would have already been in his arms right now, but this wasn't Dick. However Bruce still felt a need to give some sort of comfort while taking control of the situation for Wally's sake.

"You need to calm down now and tell me what happened," Bruce said in his take-charge Batman voice while gently rubbing small circles on Wally's back. Wally held onto himself while hearing the command, unsure if it sounded threatening or not.

"Alright, if you wont tell me I'm going to call Barry." He said sternly before fishing out his cell from his pocket. This caused Wally to immediately without thinking grab onto Bruce's hand, desperately pleading with him to not call his uncle.

"Please don't call him," he choked. "I don't know what he'll do, what he'll say, how he'll treat me after this. Please don't call Uncle Barry!" At this point Wally was in full out hysterics, and it took a trained ear to exactly make out what Wally was trying to say. Bruce knew that he was eventually going to call Barry, definitely, but at the moment he suppose it would be better to figure out what was going on. He didn't know what exactly was the matter, had he gotten the bruise from school? Perhaps he went out fighting off on his own and was afraid he'd have his costume taken away.

"Fine I wont call Barry, right now, but you and I are going to talk about this downstairs while I clean you up. I want to help you Wallace, and if there's something going on I should know about I'm trusting you to tell me." Upon running out of options, Wally briefly glanced up at the man before giving a little nod. Maybe, just maybe, if he worded his story right it wont turn out that big of a deal.

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**I hope you all liked the first part! Part 2 will have a lot more cuddles and possibly the appearance of Robin. I don't expect this story to be incredibly long, maybe one or two more shots at the most. Please don't forget to review! I read each and every one of them :)  
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	2. Chapter 2

**First I can't say how much I appreciate those who followed/favorited/commented on my story, you guys ROCK! Also, umm, what the heck? 20 follows in 1 day!? I can't believe it honestly. To celebrate I had to make the next part come out fairly quickly, enjoy!**

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Wally reflexively started nibbling on his lip while descending to the Batcave, with the bat close behind him to prevent any attempts of escape. Options ran through the young speedsters mind a mile a minute, some a lot less moral than others. Young Wallace had always been a truthful child from the beginning, and would rather tell the uncomfortable truth than deceive his friends. Like that one time when Robin had a wardrobe malfunction and started wearing these tiny green-scaled underwear looking shorts to patrol, it had been Wally to tell him the truth (that they looked completely embarrassing and "because they feel nice" was not a suitable excuse to be wearing them). But now, lying was starting to become a better option than admitting the truth; his father was hurting him.

Wally knew what his father was doing to him wasn't right. He wasn't one of those kids that thought it was normal for a parent to go full 'Hulk' and beat the crap out of them whenever they did something wrong. Also it hadn't always been this way in the West household, and Wally remembers a time when it was a loving home to live in. However after being downsized and forced to live in a run-down apartment complex, Rudy's ego had deteriorated. He was supposed to be the breadwinner for his family, and forcing Mary to go to work as a school bus driver had been both humiliating and infuriating. From then on Rudy had this constant thought that the world was out to get him, and each negative (big or small) situation that befell on his family was made solely to punish Rudy directly.

That was the moment Rudy started turning to alcohol, to help waver away the inner turmoil he felt at being pissed at the world that was pissed at him. He started slow, having an extra beer here and there, but it wasn't exactly noticeable. When he determined that his nightly drinks weren't giving him the kick he needed to make it through the day, he'd have a couple shots of Russian Vodka in the morning to calm his nerves. That quickly stopped though once his supervisor found him slouched on his chair at 2 PM sleeping off his slight hangover. Thankfully since his boss liked Rudy and would often beat him at their weekly poker game, only a firm warning was given. The good news would only last the ride home. Once Rudy walked through the door the anticipated aroma of a newly made dinner was absent, because of Wally's tantrum.

The 7 year old had come home already in a fit, but Mary was either too preoccupied or simply didn't notice his bizarre behavior. All she knew was once she mentioned that they were going to go to the barber's for a hair cut, Wally exploded in a spit of rage that had never been there in her boy before. He started screaming about how he was never going in public again and started racing of with a few of Mary's expensive paint bottles she often used in her free time. Once she finally made it to her son, it was already too late. There were black, yellow, and blue paint splashes covering Wally's frizzy hair and entire bathroom floor and sink. Mary just stared at the mess awestruck, completely disbelieving what was before her eyes. Wally however, with streams of tears already passing his cheeks, kept at his task at trying to dye his hair a "cool" color so he wouldn't be picked on anymore.

That day had been an eventful moment in Wally's life for many reasons. It had been a typical day at school until a young substitute teacher who was currently in college commented at how _red_ Wally's hair was. The young woman had meant it to be a compliment, but unfortunately it lead to a string of events that would make it the first worst day in young Wallace's life. If that woman knew that pointing out Wally from the rest of the class made the other students notice how _different_ he was from his peers, she would have immediately stopped herself. But alas, the word had already gotten out and students were whispering to one another things they never realized before about Wally West. The red hair had been the first rumor to spread, having no other gingers in the class immediately had the other students commenting on how _weird_ that was. Next was the sheer amount of freckles on the boy's face, covering the tops of his cheeks and nose that none of the other children had. Sure, some of the kids had freckles on their bodies but not the numerous ones on Wally.

Then came the rumors that held no factual basis whatsoever, but were merely figments of the imaginative minds of the young children trying to find other "faults" in their classmate. He walked weird, spoke funny, and made odd noises while he ate. Some students realized he didn't really have those other characteristics but still insisted he did, in fear of what the other students might do if they denied their embellishments. By recess, Wally was still oblivious to the goings on of his fellow classmates. It wasn't until after asking to play a game of tag did one young Stevie Mathews yell, "no way you freckled-face ginger!" did Wally West realize that the other kids were avoiding him. Thing is, he _was_ a freckled-face ginger, and proud of it. His parents didn't seem to care much but whenever he visited his Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry they always marveled at his adorableness. But…that was family, and family was _supposed_ to lavish you with warm compliments. Was it really that much of a problem having red hair and freckles?

Wally began staggering back in embarrassment upon noticing the kids were agreeing with Stevie, they surely didn't want to play with a ginger either. The rest of the day went on with kids either ignoring poor Wally or poking small jabs at him. To his credit he stayed strong (though mainly because he didn't want the other kids to make fun of him for getting upset), but after he successfully departed the bus he let his emotions let loose. When Wally's mother mentioned taking him to the barber, any other day it would have been bearable, but because it was today it was the last straw for Wally. He didn't want the man who cut his hair to comment on how _red_ it was and how many freckles he had. He was sure one of the lady's would talk about him because they normally would, in the past he just shrugged it off and ignored it but now he knew the truth. They were all making fun of him too.

That's when Wally had the brilliant idea to dye his hair. He remembered this girl in class who was normally blonde but showed up with brown hair the next day, he could do the same thing. Noticing his mothers' paints on the table from where she was painting this past weekend, he quickly decided to grab three bottles that would be a more suitable color before running to the bathroom. He knew black would be a safe color to try, figured yellow would turn someone's hair blonde, and blue just because it was his favorite color. He was originally going to try one at a time and determine which color he looked best in, but how could he choose? Then he got the fun idea to just put all the colors in his hair, he'd be the cool kid in class for sure then.

After squeezing the tube of paints in his hair, the sudden chill sent little goosebumps on his scalp and arms. His fingers dug into his mess of hair, making sure to rub the paints in thoroughly, he didn't want a single strand of red showing. It only took a few minutes for him to spread the paint, leaving massive paint gobs on his clothes, body, and bathroom sink in the process. Wiping a few stray tears from his face, he let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't going to be picked on tomorrow at school, in fact, he was absolutely sure the other kids would be astonished at his black/blonde/blue hair mix, afterall who wouldn't?

That's when he heard the scream, not from fright, but from frustration.

"Oh Wally, what did you do?" His mother gasped as she eyeballed the mess that was covering her once clean bathroom and son. Quickly recovering she took her still wet-haired boy and started showering him with water from the tub in hopes of getting the paints out of his hair.

The whole ordeal took another two hours to get Wally fully clean (much to his protest, he didn't want the work he did to get ruined), and for the bathroom to become at least somewhat less paint-stained. The paints took their toll on the sink, and Mary considered that it would take more heavy duty cleaner than the ones she had at home to get the job done. She really hoped they would eventually come out, for both her and Wally's sake. Lately Rudy had been a bit more temperamental then usual, and she didn't particularly want to see his reaction once he saw the state the bathroom was in. She just couldn't fight again, the last one was just too emotionally draining.

That was when a none-too happy Rudolph West walked inside his home, hungry and wanting to eat his dinner. Unfortunately for him, it never came.

That was the first night Rudy ever struck Wally. He didn't use his belt, or any other instrument, only the personal hardness of his hand. This event frightened Wally a great deal, and from then on (at least until the next incident) Wally behaved the best he ever had in months. Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris even commented on his behavior, but they also thought it was a little strange that their once spunky nephew was now a more subdued child. The thought was brief however, and faded away soon after it was conjured up after seeing how happy the cheerful family was.

Wally never mentioned _why_ he put paint in his hair, and strangely neither parent asked. They simply reacted to the disturbance that was affecting them at that moment, and didn't seem to really care about the reason behind the action. Rudy was more focused on punishing his boy so he wouldn't have another late dinner again, and Mary just didn't want to get into another argument with Rudy so she avoided the whole situation. The next day she picked up her cleaning supplies and by the time Rudy arrived home there was supper on the table and a freshly cleaned bathroom, which thankfully was now spotless.

Wally learned how to deal with his classmates by himself, and was successful. He'd crack jokes about himself, how red his hair was and his funny freckles, that left the other children giggling and feeling friendlier toward him. He much preferred to be the cause of his own societal misfortune than leaving it to some other kid, and he was starting to enjoy coming up with the jokes themselves. Eventually Wally started poking fun at other things like the gym teacher's pudgy belly and how one of their classroom fish would always swim sideways. One time however after calling a pigtailed girl four eyes in recognition of her new thick rimmed glasses, he went a bit too far. He made some crude remark on the thickness of the fame that had other children laughing, even those that also wore glasses, but after a few seconds of giggles he noticed that he actually made the girl _cry. _She bolted from the room causing the teacher to chase after her, which led to a phone call home. The next day as Wally uncomfortably sat in his seat, he noticed the girl he had made fun of the day before and made the effort to properly apologize.

This wasn't because of the scolding look and lecture from his teacher, nor from the punishment from his father, but the guilt of making another child hurt just like he was a few weeks ago. He didn't need to be told it was wrong, because the moment he saw the tears trickling down the pigtailed girl's face he saw himself. He remembered the pain he felt from being made fun of, and he couldn't believe that he had participated in an activity that made someone else feel the same way. From that moment on, he never made fun of another person for his expense or their humiliation (later on that would change, he didn't mind humiliating villains). He'd still crack light-hearted jokes and jabs, but nothing with any serious basis or ill intent.

Back in the cave, Wally sat nervously on the examination table waiting for Bruce to come back who went to retrieve some first-aid supplies. He didn't really want to sit down, but decided that it would be best to appease the bat so he wouldn't become any more suspicious. Wally didn't know for certain, but he guessed Bruce only knew about the bruise on his face (incidentally the one Wally actually forgot about until noticing the man's concern). If it was true, Wally would do everything he could so Batman's 6th sense wouldn't be activated to check the boy's body for further injury.

The cave was eerily silent, mostly because there wasn't a Boy Wonder flying around on the ropes that hung from the ceiling in the corner. Being in the cave without his friend made Wally feel a bit awkward, especially since he wasn't even in costume. In fact, this whole situation was just a big ball of awkwardness and with each passing second the young speedster had to submit the urge to run out of there, because he knew if he did Bruce would not hesitate to call Uncle Barry.

Bruce, who was only carrying a small tube of ointment, reappeared and walked toward Wally who was still fidgeting in his chair.

"I thought you were getting first-aid stuff?" Wally asked, a bit suspicious on why he took so long for a single tube.

"I was. Everything I could possibly need is here." Bruce motioned to the small clinic setup in the cave, opening drawers and cabinets to show his well-stocked supplies. "Except this," he said while holding up the tube once again. "It's bruise cream. Last night Dick stubbed his knee on one of the tables in the living room. We thought we had some upstairs but apparently we ran out without knowing, so today Alfred was going to pick some up while grocery shopping. It wasn't until after I brought you down here did I remember we left the stuff upstairs, so I had go back for it." Unscrewing the cap, Bruce carefully dabbed some on his finger (he washed his hands beforehand, he's a very hygienic person) and gently started to apply it around Wally's eye and cheekbone.

The closeness to the man was making Wally a bit uncomfortable. He knew that Bruce wouldn't hurt him, but with every twitch his body made Wally became more nervous that Bruce would become suspicious. What Wally didn't know was Bruce wasn't upstairs getting the ointment (Alfred is always well-stocked and would not forgot such a trivial task), but wanted to examine the surveillance video in the cave to determine Wally's mental and physical state. The boy had calmed down before they left for the cave, but Bruce didn't know if it was only a façade. He wanted to see Wally's reaction when there was no one else in the room. Bruce was glad Wally had stayed poised and hadn't broken down crying again because he wouldn't know exactly how to handle that situation, but then he noticed something odd. It seemed that Wally would lean on his hands and push away from the backing of the table so his body wouldn't be touching it. He continued to move around, and even wince every so often causing Bruce to urgently go back where he left him.

While applying the cream, Bruce knew that he was running out of time to fully access Wally's injuries. This boy was a speedster, a speedster who had accelerated healing. If Bruce needed to take documentation of the injury, he had to act quickly but in a way to not upset Wally.

Bruce leaned away once he was done and stood in front of the anxious boy, trying to pick the right words. He could tell there was inner turmoil in Wally's mind, a battle between a comfortable lie and a hard-bearing truth.

"You know you can trust me Wallace," Bruce began, softening his expression while maintaining his Batman voice. "You're my partner's best friend which makes you important to me too, but even if you weren't you deserve to feel safe here. You're a superhero now Wally, and with that there are certain things that you have to leave in childhood."

"I…I know."

"Good. I know this is difficult for you, sometimes telling the truth can hurt, but if you withhold information like this it can hurt people who care about you and are worried for your safety." Wally's eyes started to glisten, tears desperately balancing on the edges of his eyelids. With no hesitation Bruce wrapped a comforting arm around Wally, gently giving him a half-sided hug, while hoping his words were getting through.

"B-but you lie sometimes…" Wally began, looking up at the dark knight. "When me and Robin were with you and Flash on that mission together a few weeks ago, Alfred called and asked if we were alright. You had a hole in your leg from a knife but you said we were all fine, isn't that lying too?" Bruce immediately winced while giving a short nod. Figuring a short "It's okay, I'm Batman" response wouldn't be accepted so he decided to number his reasoning.

"You're right, I did lie, but there is a difference." Letting go of Wally's shoulder he moved around so he could look at him in the eye. "First, the wound I sustained hit no major arteries and I had applied a tourniquet to help slow the bleeding. Second, we were still on the mission and if we stopped because I was hurt there was no guarantee it would have been a success. Flash and I were still gathering henchmen and Alfred's main concern was to make sure neither you nor Robin were injured. Third, since I was unable to leave the mission Alfred would have spent the rest of the time worrying until we came back (with his age and daily stressors, we try to keep his anxiety at a minimal). Plus, Robin made sure to inform him of my condition the moment we arrived. It's not _good_ to lie but sometime's you just have to."

"But…" Wally began, a bit confused now. "Why do I have to tell you about how I got my injury? I mean, I heal fast, so, it's not like I'm in any danger…by tomorrow I should be okay. I know I was freaking out before, but, I'm better now…". Bruce really didn't want to use the excuse, "I'm an adult, and you're a child" but he was starting to run out of ideas.

"You don't know what's serious and what isn't yet," he settled on. "As Kid Flash you're still fairly new at being a hero and you don't know what type of injuries need immediate attention and those that don't. You haven't experienced any major injuries, which is lucky, but that wont last forever. Hiding an injury is incredibly dangerous and while you heal quicker than most, it doesn't put you in any less risk." Putting another gentle hand on Wally's shoulder Bruce stated, "I know you're hurt in other places Wallace. I need to know how you got these injuries so I can better examine the situation. We are treating this like you were injured on a mission, now what happened?"

Wally looked up, silent tears streaming down his face. He wanted to make up a story, one that would put less blame on his father, but in the end he knew it would do no good. What his father was doing was wrong, and while Wally had made up excuses for him in the past he couldn't do it anymore. Wally was a hero now, and with that came responsibilities for himself and the people around him. There was only one way Wally could answer, and that was the full truth.

"My dad…my dad hurts me…"

* * *

**Okay so I know how I said in my first chapter that this story would only consist of a few shots, please disregard that. This story has taken a more in-depth route than it was originally headed, which I think is appropriate regarding the subject matter. Plus, it's been a bit addicting to write haha. I know I keep abusing Wally (I'm sorry!) but rest assured it'll get better. I look forward to seeing what you guys think so far, so please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

"My dad…my dad hurts me…"

A beat passed, leaving the room silent except for the occasional squeaks of the cave's bats that had recently awakened. Bruce's voice was for once caught in his throat, unsure if it was appropriate for him to be furious, reassuring, or attempt to maintain his calm. The look on Wally's face made the decision for him as he looked on at the streaks of tears that had continued to flow. Gripping Wally's whitening fists that had dug inside his palm, Bruce looked him in the eye and with a strong voice said, "Tell me everything". And Wally did.

As Wally told his story the sickening drop in Bruce's stomach grew into a pit filled with hatred directed at the boy's father. How could someone hurt their own child like that? How could any respectable adult for that matter even comprehend doing the things this boy was telling him? A million questions flooded Bruce's mind as he intently listened until a sickening one stopped all the others; how could Barry or himself not have noticed?

While Bruce was marinating in his stew of emotions, Wally was beginning to release some of his own. The past 5 years of sadness and fear was slowly seeping away as he told his tale for the first time, letting go of the suppressed tension that had resided in himself. Sometimes his voice would falter and he would need a few moments of quiet before he could move on. Bruce remained ever patient, letting the boy take the time that he needed.

Wally wiped his eyes, the tears slowing being replaced with specks of anger towards his father while he recounted today's event's for his disciplined listener. He talked about how he had misbehaved in school, again, which resulted in his father beating him with that damned belt. In the past Rudy always left marks in places that would be covered with clothing, this was the first time he ever hit Wally's face.

"I never thought he'd do that." Wally whispered, looking down as he fiddled with his hands nervously.

"He shouldn't have," Bruce replied, for the first time speaking since Wally began. "No one should, ever, do what he's been doing to you." Wally's only response was a brief nod while looking up at his friends' father. Bruce's expression was mixed with worry and determination as he looked at the hurting boy in front of him.

"We need to form a plan," Bruce stated firmly. "I know you don't want to inform your uncle, but he needs to know. This has gone on way too long. Whatever reservations you have about speaking to him need to be spoken now or put aside."

Wally wanted to object, desperately beg for this secret to be kept hidden, but he knew it would be no use. Bruce would tell Barry whether he liked it or not, and a part of Wally knew that the moment he stepped into the batcave.

"What if…what if he thinks I'm not strong enough?" Wally mumbled.

"You're strong." Bruce countered. "More strong than you credit yourself with."

"What if-" Wally's question immediately stopped when noticing the piercing eyes of the bat, halting his train of thought.

"Barry Allen is proud of you Wally." Bruce said while circling around the medical table Wally was still sitting in.

"_I'm_ proud of you. You don't' know how Barry will react until you tell him. Have some faith in your uncle, do you really think he'll reprimand you for something that was your father's fault?" After getting out a small camera that was strategically placed in the medical bay (sometimes it was important to document certain wounds for Leslie to examine later or for Alfred to determine where their suits needed better Kevlar placing) Bruce once again placed a calm hand on Wally's shoulder as the boy shook his head in response.

"You aren't alone Wally. Let me help you, let your uncle help you. That's what a team does when one of their members needs aid." Wally didn't know this at the time, but this was a very profound thing for Bruce to say. It took the Batman _years_ to understand the benefits a team can provide and for him to nonchalantly comment on the positives would have made Superman cry with joy.

"It's just…hard…"

"I know," Bruce nodded. "But I'll be here if you need help telling him what you told me. Or, I can leave and give you two some privacy. One way or another Wallace, he need's to know. Today." Shaking a bit, Wally nodded. He understood what was needed to be done, but it didn't mean it would be easy.

Lifting up the camera Bruce explained, "I need to document what your father did to you in case we need them for later. Would you be okay with that?" Wally grew wide-eyed and nibbled at his lip nervously.

"Do we have to do that…now?"

"Sooner the better. With your fast healing abilities it's important we get it over with. Can you-" Bruce was ultimately cut off by a loud beeping noise coming from his computer.

"What was that?" Wally's voiced reached an octave higher, his already on-edge state growing slightly. Looking at his wrist watch, Bruce mumbled a curse before setting his camera down.

"Alfred and Dick are home, the alarm indicated someone opened the front door. I'm going to try to intercept them so Dick doesn't come down here." Turning on his heel Bruce started to make his way out of the medical room before an idea formed in his mind.

"Wally, do I have your permission to let Alfred know about this situation? He can come and examine you while I preoccupy Dick upstairs. You can have some more time to organize how you want to inform your uncle." Bruce knew the older man's bed side manner was _much_ better than his own, and he knew Wally might need a tad bit more reassurance that the butler could easily provide. A slight smile broke on Wally's face when mentioning the butler.

"You can tell Alfred." Wally said softly. Alfred always had a talent for making him feel better, and at the moment Wally needed those talents in excess. "But…you wont tell Dick, right?"

"Of course not. The only way Dick, or anyone else that does not need to know, will find out is if you tell them." Wally let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't as if he wanted to keep something from his best friend, but right now this whole situation was just so confusing and stressful he didn't want to make him worry about it. Maybe someday he'll tell him, but just not now.

Quickening his steps Bruce made long strides up the stairs, almost running into the butler who had started his descent.

"Master Bruce! I was just about to inform you of our arrival. My apologies for taking so long, Master Dick insisted he have dinner with his teammates and I didn't have the heart to refuse. Your dinner should be ready shortly, and, oh dear, is something the matter?" The butler looked on at his former charge who looked somewhat forlorn and tired. It was an odd expression from one who was usually tried to maintain his stoic nature, which raised some red flags.

"Dick can't come down here," Bruce began. "Wally West is downstairs, he needs our help at the moment. I can't really explain everything right now, but he just informed me that his father has been abusing him for a while. I need you to take pictures for me of the abuse while I keep Dick upstairs. I know he has a black eye, and I haven't fully investigated the other injuries but you should probably check his back and legs. Are you okay with doing that for me?" While Bruce was explaining, shock erupted through the butler as he listened. To get him out if it, Bruce actually had to lightly tap his shoulder, causing Alfred to jump into action.

"Of course it's alright Master Bruce, the poor lad. Oh how terrible for this to have happened, rest assured I will take care of young Master Wally." Bruce let out a sigh of relief, he knew Alfred would take care of everything.

"Maybe you could try to make him feel more comfortable telling his uncle? I'll try to be back down in about a half hour, if there's any problems or if he wants to call his uncle before I make it back please call my cell."

"Of course, Master Bruce." Alfred was about to further descend the stairs to attend to the child while a thought struck him. "Oh, also, the timer for your dinner should go off in about 10 minutes. If you could please not forget about it like last time and take the salmon out of the oven that would be extremely helpful." Bruce winced slightly will nodding.

"Right. I'll take care of it. Is Dick in his room?"

"I encouraged the young master to gather his clothes together and put them in the washroom. Whether he has done that or not, I do not know. Now I really must go to Master Wally, I'm sure he does not want to be alone for much longer." Nodding, Bruce gave a silent farewell as he made it to the clock opening of the cave.

Thankfully Dick was still in his room when Bruce found him, shoveling his numerous discarded clothes into the basket. Dick was a tidy child when he first arrived at the manor, not having much space while living with the circus had given him little experience being messy, but that soon changed as he got more and more things from his new guardian. His bedroom floor soon became home to many toys, unfinished games, and clothes despite the amount of room in his closet and drawers that could house them all.

Alfred was of course cross when Dick first expressed the trend, but his exterior changed when the boy explained that he liked to lay out his belongings because it was his way of appreciating them. Having not owned much before living at the manor, he was always so grateful when he was given a new toy or outfit and would often like looking at it. If he simply put everything away, he thought it would be disrespectful and he wanted to let Alfred and Bruce know he enjoyed the gifts that they had given him. It also made his room a bit less barren, and Dick enjoyed the live-in feel that came with it. Alfred let the boy carry on for the first few months, but after tripping over a half finished game of _Mouse Trap_ the subject had been brought up again.

Unfortunately, at this point the trend had turned into a hard to break habit. Dick wasn't a lazy person (Robin's can't afford to be lazy) but when it came to his room he liked it unkempt. But finally after many arguments it was agreed that as long as there was a clear pathway to the bedroom and bathroom door, window (for fire escape purposes), and that he would clean the room when directed by Bruce or Alfred (which was usually when they expected company), Dick could leave his bedroom the way he wanted to. This came at a price however, for Alfred refused to do the young man's laundry unless it was neatly stacked in his clothes basket and waiting in the washroom. Now that's where Bruce found his adopted son, doing his weekly chore of picking up his clothes.

Dick turned around after hearing Bruce enter his room, and gave him a big, goofy, smile. "Hi, Bruce!" He exclaimed while quickly tossing a shirt into the basket before giving his guardian a hug. Bruce gently returned the embrace, letting his hand slide down his son's back and holding him tightly. It was a much needed comfort for Bruce, after dealing with a sad child only a moment ago, he needed Dick's cheerfulness.

"How was your meeting? Ready for tomorrow's tournament?" Bruce asked while forcing a smile. He hoped that his previous expression that was so noticeable to Alfred had dissipated while he talked to his son. He really didn't want to worry Dick.

"Fine." Dick said happily. "They're really nice kids, I'm glad I made it on the team. Michael and Kevin wanted to go to Pizzaro's Pizza afterwards and they invited me along! Shelby, couldn't go 'cuz she had a doctor's appointment though which was sad, but maybe we can all hang out after our competition tomorrow. Miss Daniel's, oh she's our coach, thinks that we'll have a shot at being the top three! Can you believe it? If we make it then we qualify for the state finals. It'll be more difficult since all the other teams would be champion's too, but that just adds to the fun of it. I really hope we make it, it would be so awesome, maybe we'll win!" Hearing his boy chipper happily about school like that gave way to a _real_ smile, one that Bruce Wayne so rarely showed. He was proud, oh so proud, that Dick had adjusted well after last years' experience. The kids apparently still picked on him occasionally, but he made a lot of friends after coming more out of his shell, and joining the Mathlete's gave him an opportunity to bond with other kids his own age after school too (he was the youngest member of the bunch, and in Bruce's opinion also the brightest). Being a 10 year old starting middle school was tough, but Dick had the mean's to overcome the obstacles.

"I'm so happy for you Dick." Bruce said. "I'm sure you'll wipe the floor with whatever teams you run up against. Just make sure you-"

Dick interrupted, "Have fun, play fair, and do your best. I know I know." Dick mocked. "You'll be able to come tomorrow right? I mean, I understand if you can't since your work might need-" Bruce briskly picked Dick up before sitting them both on the bed, with Dick placed gently in his lap.

"I'll be there." Bruce said, holding his boy in his arms. "I wont miss it. Plus, tomorrow's Saturday. I deserve a break once in a while, and for this week not even a corporate shutdown can keep me away." In the back of his mind Bruce knew that if Barry needed him however, he'd make a little time to talk to him on the phone if he needed help. But absolutely no business executives would take him away from Dick's day, and that was a promise.

"Thanks, Bruce." Dick hugged the larger man's torso, feeling loved and secure in his guardians arms. "But you know, I don't want you to go bankrupt. If your company _really _needs help you have my permission." Dick said while smiling up at his guardian. Bruce snorted a laugh, but remained quiet.

The two laid there for a few minutes, one relaxing after a hard day's work at school while the other recovering from what was going on in the batcave.

"You know Dick…" Bruce sighed, casually rubbing the boy's back as he continued. "If anyone hurts you, you know that you can come to me and Alfred right?"

"Bruuuce, we already talked about this. I'm not being bullied much anymore okay?" the keyword "much" sent a inward wince as Bruce clarified.

"I'm not talking just about school though, if anyone, anywhere, hurts you please tell me. Even if it was when you were doing something you shouldn't have, or you're a bit embarrassed to tell me. I care about you Dick, so much, I don't want you to suffer alone." Dick looked up at Bruce, intensely studying him.

"Did something happen?" Dick asked. Bruce briefly cursed himself, realizing how blatantly obvious the topic was just randomly brought up.

"No," he quickly corrected. "While you were gone I was watching…Oprah…and they were talking about domestic violence, so I was just making sure you knew."

_What the heck, Oprah?!_ Bruce thought. _I never watch Oprah, Alfred never watches Oprah, where the hell did that come from?_ Thinking that his ward would look through his blatant excuse, he was relieved when Dick simply shrugged it off.

"Oh, well, okay. You know you don't have to worry about it though." Dick smiled. "I told you when Robert was picking on me, I'll tell you if anything else happens alright? Does that make you feel better?" Bruce smiled back and nodded.

"Definitely." A loud beeping of the smoke alarm rang through the house, startling both of them.

"Shit!" As Bruce sprinted downstairs, he was greeted with a cloud of smoke hovering over his oven and a slightly burning smell. He could already hear Alfred berating him in his mind, scolding for his thoughtlessness. After turning off the oven, then smoke alarm, he cautiously opened the oven door to find his shriveled up and blackened fish, thankfully not on fire.

It was at that moment Dick sprang into the room, fire extinguisher in hand, poised and ready to put out any flame that had resulted in his guardian's carelessness. After noticing nothing was burning, the boy wonder let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank god the kitchen's not on fire this time."

* * *

Back at the cave Alfred was descending the stairs, mind focused at the task in hand. He had to repeat the conversation he had moments ago in his head, truly disbelieving what he at first heard. Master Wally was always such a lively young boy, soon to be teenager, and he didn't have the characteristics of someone coming from an abusive household. He was fearless and high-spirited, albeit a bit unruly at times, but never to the extent of forcing Alfred to raise his voice. Wally had proven to be the perfect boyhood companion for Dick, and while a few years older, still had the playfulness of a child Dick's age while the maturity (though it could be debated) of someone a bit older. Roy, Dick's other caped companion, was also friends with both boys but being in his teenage years caused him to be a tad more distant.

The image of Wally Alfred had in his head did not fit the lad that sat in front of him, hovering sadly over the medical table. With shoulders hunched, head down, and spine curved, it left poor Wally in a defensive position that tore at the old man's heart. Approaching carefully, he placed a friendly hand on the boy's shoulder and smiled. Time to work his magic.

Alfred had been helping boys go through their troubles since Bruce's parents' deaths at a young age. Granted he made plenty of mistakes at first, but over the years he had gradually learned what a hurting child would typically respond best to. A gentle voice, a comforting touch, and if need be, a firm attitude could work wonders. When Dick arrived at the Wayne household, Alfred was able to salvage what he learned from before and put that information to good use when coping with nightmares and daily frights that had plagued the young boy. Now, as he stood before another hurting child, he knew exactly what to do.

"Would you like some cookies Master Wally? I keep a stash in here for Master Dick, secretly of course; Master Bruce doesn't need the extra calories." Sure enough at the mention of cookies, Wally brought up his eyes to look at the butler and gave in to a small smile.

After retrieving the securely sealed plastic bag of homemade cookies, Alfred contemplated the dreadful mark on poor Wally's face. _To do such a thing to a child_, Alfred thought. _It is absolutely barbaric._

With a kind face, Alfred eyed the boy who was nibbling on his first chocolate chip cookie from the bag he had just received, and gently sat down on the wheeled stool in front of him.

"What's you favorite cookie, young sir? Why, I recall you trying most of my recipes yet I do not know which type you prefer." After taking a larger bite, Wally sat back in thought.

"When it comes to cookies, you can't really do any wrong." Wally said. "I love everything you make, I can't have a favorite 'cuz they're all just so good! Oh…" Wally paused, squinting while a sudden thought occurred to him.

"Except…I really don't like raisins in them. Not just yours, please don't take offense! I just don't understand why people put _fruit_ in a cookie. Especially raisins. Those things are little pellets of destruction." A soft chuckle erupted from the butler while he nodded.

"I'm not particularly fond of raisins myself, but Master Bruce and Master Dick seem to enjoy them so I make it a point to bake them occasionally. You know Master Wally, I know a very good recipe with ground up orange peels that make a chocolate chip cookie quite delectable." At the word _orange_, Wally made a scrunched up face as he eyed the butler questionably.

"Oh, don't give me that look. It is quite good, you might be surprised. If I made some would you try at least one for me?"

Wally knew he'd never be able to refuse the butler, so he settled on a shrug combined with a smile. "I'll at least try it, for you anyway. As long as there aren't any raisins."

"No raisins." Alfred confirmed, happy that the boy seemed to perk up a bit.

A few minutes passed with Wally contently eating his cookies while being supervised by the butler. As he got to the last one, he paused, eyed the contents and set it back down on the table beside him. Looking back up, he nodded towards Alfred.

"Thanks for the cookies." Wally spoke lightly, unsure of his own words. "I'm…I'm ready to talk now…did you speak to Bruce?" Alfred gave the boy a sad smile, confirming with a nod.

"Then…then I guess I should talk about it, right? I mean, about what happened?"

"My boy, you can talk about whatever you like. Whatever you are _comfortable_ to talk about, I will surely listen. I do not want to push you, young sir, and I merely come to you as a concerned friend that wants to help."

"Don't you have to take pictures? I mean, before I heal up?" Wally asked nervously, slightly fidgeting in his seat.

"That is something we need to do, yes." Alfred allowed. "But I also want to look at your injuries because they seem to be causing you pain. I am a healer, Master Wally, and if I see Master Bruce or Master Dick in pain I normally force them into bed so I can take care of them. The same goes for you." Firmly grasping Wally's hand, Alfred gave a reassuring squeeze. He wanted this boy to trust him, and he wanted to make him feel better.

"But, I will never do something you are not comfortable with. I will not push or probe, but I am a tool for you to use in your time of need. If you are indeed ready young sir, I will listen and we can talk about this together. But you must make the initiative, lead were the conversation is going. I might try to gently guide you, but rest assured it is up to you with what you reveal." Alfred's method of talking about serious matters went together with Bruce's. While Bruce was more direct on what should be focused on and talked about, Alfred used the laid-down approach and let the child guide the conversation. It was a nice balance, each person had a specific role to play that was essential. One wouldn't go well without the other, and they needed each method.

"My dad…hits me." Wally mumbled.

"I know, dear boy. I know, and I'm here for you." Alfred rose to the boy's aid and embraced him in a gentlemanly hug.

"He hit…my back, legs and…face…" Wally's tears spilled over onto the butlers shirt who paid no mind. Alfred merely stroked the back of Wally's head reassuringly, sending waves of comfort through him.

"How can I help?" Alfred asked, continuing his soft gestures to calm the shaking boy.

Wally sat in thought, contemplating at the butlers words. He trusted Alfred, and Bruce, and while he was uncertain of what the outcome would be he needed to reaffirm his trust in Uncle Barry.

The uncertainty that was once in the young boy's voice was now gone, and he confidently looked at the older man who still stood across from him.

"I'm ready, I'm sure this time. I'm ready to call Uncle Barry."

* * *

**First, thank you all once again for your continued support with your follows/favs/comments, it means a lot! I meant to post this chapter a few days ago, but life got in the way so I made sure this chapter was a bit longer to make up for it. As scheduling goes, I'm hoping to post this story about once a week (sometimes less, sometimes more depending on things). As to the storyline; yes, Uncle Barry will be making an appearance! Yay! Wally will FINALLY be getting his much needed cuddles. I wish Bruce was a more touchy-feely guy with other people other than Dick, but alas, he just ends up being a bit awkward. He's good for the support and explaining things, but when it comes to hugs Batman probably isn't the best choice (unless you're a bird). Feel free to review and critique, I love reading what you have to say. A little spoiler: You will be seeing more Dick and Bruce together! While this story's center is Wally, he's not the only one I will be focused on. Have an asterous day!**


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